“As life becomes more fragile, it also becomes more beautiful………..”

Just yesterday, those words were typed in response to a note from a dear friend. In some ways, perhaps they were an ‘off the cuff’ reaction to a kindness offered, a blessing still.

But I thought on them last night and realized (even as the night wore on) just how much truth can be held in such a few words.

Life is surely fragile. It has been from the start. And maybe (just maybe) when we were babies, our parents realized how precious and nimble our life was. Maybe they even felt that way themselves, as they held us near wondering just how far they had come from the day they wished for such joy.

But in the living, we can lose sight of how easily it could all come unhinged. We spread our wings, dropping our defenses along the way. And before we have time to reconsider, we’ve become invincible.

And then we get older, and those we love get older. Somehow, this simple fact causes us to slow (to strain against the momentum of dying), so that once again, we realize the delicate wonder that comes with living.

And when we do, we see things new – we see things as beautiful.

We see them as they are, as they’ve always been.

I thought a bit more, and realized that life hadn’t changed at all through this process. What changed was our perception, our awareness both of life and in the things which make it worth living.

beautiful
fragile
fleeting
 all

. . .